Arms and the Woman

So I crossed the room and sat down in the chair nearest her. I vaguely

wondered if, at the distance, she had seen the love in my eyes when I

thought myself unobserved.

"I thank you for those lovely roses," she said, smiling and permitting

me to press her hand.

"Don't mention it," I replied. It is so difficult for a man to say

original things in the presence of the woman he loves! "I have great

news for you. It reads like a fairy tale, you know; happy ever

afterward, and all that."

"Ah!"

"Yes. Do you remember my telling you of a rich uncle who lived in the

South?"

"Is it possible that he has left you a fortune?" she cried, her eyes

shining.

"You have guessed it."

"I am very glad for your sake, Jack. I was beginning to worry about

you."

"Worry about me?"

"Yes. I do not understand how a newspaper man can afford to buy roses

four or five times a week--and exist." She had the habit of being

blunt and frank to her intimate friends. I secretly considered it an

honor when she talked to me like this. "I have told you repeatedly to

send me flowers only once a week. I'd rather not have them at all.

Last week you spent as much as $30 on roses alone. Mr. Holland does

not do that for Ethel, and he has a million."

"I'm not Holland," I said. "He doesn't--that is--I do not think he--."

Then I foundered. I had almost said: "He doesn't care as much for

Ethel as I do for you."

Phyllis pretended not to note my embarrassment. The others came in

then, and conversation streamed into safer channels.

When we entered the box at the opera the curtain had risen. Phyllis

and I took the rear chairs. They were just out of the glare of the

lights.

"You are looking very beautiful to-night," I whispered lowly. I was

beginning business early. There was no barrier at my lips.

"Thank you," she replied. Then with a smile: "Supposing I were to say

that you are looking very handsome?"

"Oh," said I, somewhat disconcerted, "that would be rather

embarrassing."

"I do not doubt it."

"And then it would not be true. The duty we men owe to a beautiful

woman is constantly to keep telling her of it."

"And the duty we women owe to a fine-looking man?" a rogue of a dimple

in her cheeks.